


Dinner and a Show

by onekisstotakewithme



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: 1950s, Established OT3, Established Relationship, F/M, Formalwear, Lingerie, M/M, OT3, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-13 17:02:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onekisstotakewithme/pseuds/onekisstotakewithme
Summary: “So whaddaya think, Beej? Do I pass muster?”





	Dinner and a Show

**Author's Note:**

  * For [docmccoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/docmccoy/gifts), [flootzavut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/gifts), [alleyesonthehindenburg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alleyesonthehindenburg/gifts).



> I owe the idea to Cal so thank you dear ♥

The ballroom is slowly filling with people, but BJ is sitting at his table, lost in thought. He’s mentally going through every step of the operation he did today, from scrubbing up to the final stitches, recreating the surgery in his mind’s eye, paying no mind to anything as trivial as a charity gala for the hospital.

“Dr. Hunnicutt, you look very intense,” comes a low and sultry voice in BJ’s ear, and his heart kicks up a tempo as he turns, already rising from his chair. 

“Hawk, you made it!” he says, standing up and grinning. And then he stops, taking the sight in.

Hawkeye is in his best suit, grinning like he’s never heard of a place called Korea. He’s well-fed and well-rested and his smile could light the whole room, and BJ is  _ stunned. _

He manages to pull it together. “It’s good to see you, Dr. Pierce,” he says.

Hawkeye’s grin grows wider. “And you… Beej. Dr. Hunnicutt. How’d that operation go today?”

“Good. Patient should recover nicely, thank you.”

Hawkeye smiles, and makes a show of looking around the crowded ballroom. “It’s a shame Peggy couldn’t come,” he says, giving BJ an oddly formal smile.

BJ has to bite back a smile of his own before he can reply. “Well you know how she is, Doctor. She said she’d sooner swim across the Pacific than come to another hospital gala.”

He says it in the most casual way he can muster, both of them pretending that Hawk wasn’t in the kitchen while the discussion about Peggy attending the gala went on for several hours, culminating with all three of them in bed together. 

Hawk laughs. “Only your wife, BJ.”

“Well, you know how she is,” BJ says in return.

Hawk leans in, and somehow he’s more  _ vibrant  _ tonight, bright and glowing like a firework display, and BJ doesn’t know what it is, but his heart starts pounding when Hawk gets too close. “Of course I do,” Hawk says, before pulling back, and gesturing to his clothes. “So whaddaya think, Beej? Do I pass muster?”

It’s funny enough that BJ doesn’t wince at the reminder, and besides, he’s too enthralled by Hawkeye in a suit. “Holy fuck, Hawk.”

Hawkeye gives him a stunning grin, and does a little twirl to show off. “Not bad, huh?”

“For uh…” BJ has to swallow hard as he stares, and then he grins too. “For a man whose closet is full of Hawaiian shirts, you look pretty damn fine.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself for a man who hasn’t shaved since Truman was president,” Hawk retorts, grinning. 

“Dr. Pierce, Dr. Hunnicutt!” BJ’s hand drops from Hawk’s shoulder as Dr. O’Brien walks over, clapping them both on the back. “I wasn’t expecting to see you boys here!”

“Well,” Hawk says, making eye contact with BJ, a private joke sparkling between them. “We’ll take any excuse for a party, sir.”

BJ gets another dizzying whiff of whatever cologne Hawk is wearing. He recognizes it from somewhere, and it leaves him feeling more than a little needy. How he’s supposed to get through tonight without kissing Hawk senseless, he doesn’t know.

“Right, right,” O’Brien says. “That reminds me, Dr. Hunnicutt, I checked in on that patient of yours before I came here, and that’s some stellar work.”

“He’s very good with his hands,” Hawkeye says, and BJ turns to glare at him.

O’Brien chuckles. “The man can sew like nobody’s business.”

“You should see what he can do on socks,” Hawk jokes. “But he can’t knit to save his life.”

“Thank you, Dr. Pierce,” BJ says, but Hawk just keeps grinning. 

“Are the two of you always like this?” O’Brien asks. 

“No usually we’re worse,” Hawkeye says. “Gave our old boss hell and a half.”

“It’s fascinating, the fraternity of war. Makes men into brothers,” O’Brien says, clapping them one final time on the shoulder before going to take his seat.

BJ and Hawk exchange a look and BJ has to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. Hawk cackles to himself.

“Is it just me,” BJ starts, “or does that seem kinda wrong?”

Hawk waggles his eyebrows. “C’mon Beej, haven’t you ever heard of brotherly love?”

“You’re disgusting,” BJ tells him.

“I do my best.”

BJ pulls Hawk’s chair out for him, grateful that nobody in the crowd seems to be paying two rogue doctors any attention. 

Once he’s sitting down, he notices that Hawk is watching him. “What?”

Hawk leans in. “I’m thinking of how much fun somebody is gonna have untying that bow tie for you later.”

Whatever scent he’s wearing is overwhelming and stunning, and  _ God _ , arousing, and BJ is so confused, but he's overwhelmed with a needy urge to drag Hawk into a dark corner .

Hawk pulls back away, and frowns. “What’s wrong?”

BJ shakes his head, unable to stutter out an answer, as everyone else starts to take their seats for the dinner. Hawk just flutters his eyelashes at him, making his best attempt to be coy.

“What’s the matter Beej?” he asks in a low voice. “Need a doctor?”

“A doctor is the  _ last  _ thing I need,” BJ tells him, shaking his head. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

“And yet you…” Hawk glances over as someone sits down. “Tolerate me.”

“On occasion, but don’t press your luck- Oh. Hi Dr. Malone.”

“Hello Dr. Hunnicutt. Friend of yours?”

“Yeah. Jim Malone, Hawkeye Pierce. Dr. Pierce here is an old army buddy of mine.”

Malone blinks. “World War Two?”

“Korea,” Hawkeye says softly.

Malone nods, looking between the two of them. “Old war buddies, eh?”

“Comrades in arms,” Hawk says, and there’s a teasing note in his voice that only BJ can hear, but BJ elbows him all the same.

If Hawk keeps up this teasing, BJ is going to have something to say about it. But Hawk behaves all through the rest of the conversation with Malone, even as the other doctors join them and dinner is served.

But halfway through dinner, as Hawkeye is waving his fork expressively, halfway through an animated retelling of something or another they’d gotten up to in Korea, sending another wave of perfume BJ’s way, he  _ gets it _ .

“God,” he mumbles to himself, O’Brien shooting him a questioning look. “Dammit.”

It’s Peggy’s special perfume, the one she wears on nights when Erin is away, nights where they can’t keep their hands off each other, nights where every gasp and moan doesn’t have to be stifled for fear of discovery.

It’s the perfume version of a “come hither”, and paired with Hawk’s bright blue eyes and seductive smile, it’s going to be the death of BJ before the night is out.

Hawk goes back to his dinner, clearly oblivious to the effect he’s having on BJ, or so BJ thinks until he feels a hot hand sliding slowly and deliberately up his thigh, and when he chances a glance at Hawk, he’s rewarded with a wink.

BJ’s whole face feels hot, and he shifts in his seat as Hawk’s hand continues stroking at the inside of his thigh. When he notices that the other doctors are engaged in conversation, he leans in. “I’m wise to you and Peggy’s little trick, Hawk.”

Hawk gives him a look of faux innocence. “Who, me?”

“Devious little-”

“Dr. Hunnicutt,” Malone says, and BJ looks back up. “Do you know a Doctor Winchester?”

Hawk snorts into his drink, and has to mop his face with a napkin, his nails digging into BJ’s thigh, and BJ too can’t help but grin. “Charles Winchester? Sure I do, we used to work together.”

“I had the privilege of meeting him at a conference last week. He’s very well-spoken.”

BJ opens his mouth to answer, but inhales sharply instead, as Hawk circles his thumb lightly over BJ’s crotch. “Wh- Yeah. Of course. He’s- uh- he’s always been like that.”

Malone raises an eyebrow at BJ’s stuttering, and BJ swears if he gets out of this without spontaneously combusting he’s going to  _ kill  _ Hawkeye (preferably after having his way with him once or twice). “Are you all right, Doctor?”

“I’m fine, really, I just- I think I’ve had too much to drink.”

“Maybe you'd feel better if you undid your tie” Hawk comments. “It’s cutting off all your oxygen.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” BJ tells him through gritted teeth. “I’m fine. Sorry, you were saying about Dr. Winchester?”

“I was only wondering, does he teach? He’d make a fine professor, and I’m sure Stanford would be thrilled-”

“ _ Ah _ ,” BJ says, disguising it as a noise of disagreement, trying to studiously ignore how Hawk is unbuttoning his pants and smelling of sex. “Well. You’d have a hard time luring him away-”

“From Boston,” Hawkeye finishes. “Unless you bring Boston here, that is.”

“I wouldn’t dare try, but wouldn’t hurt to put out a few feelers, now would it?” Malone asks.

“Oh, putting out  _ feelers  _ really helps,” Hawkeye agrees, his fingers nimble under the long tablecloth. “It’s always worth a try.”

BJ masks his groan in his wine glass, nearly inhaling half a glass of a very good vintage through his nose when Hawk gives up any pretense and unzips BJ’s fly.

BJ sets his wine down a little more violently than necessary as Hawk moves his hand away, BJ’s fly still gaping open. When BJ dares to take another look, Hawk is giving him a very innocent smile, and BJ wants to take a deep breath, but all he can smell is that damn perfume.

“Oh,” Hawk says, licking his lips as one of the waiters comes over. “Dessert.”

“Do you know what we’re having, Dr. Pierce?” Malone asks.

Hawk grins. “Cheesecake.”

“Too bad it isn’t tarts,” Malone says.

Hawk starts snickering into a napkin and BJ can’t help but laugh. 

“Peach?” he asks. “Or raspberry?”

“Is there some kind of joke of which I am unaware?” the man asks, mystified.

Hawk grins. “Nothing repeatable in polite company, Doctor.”

“So, Dr. O’Brien,” BJ says, trying not to ignore how Hawk is giving him the same hungry look he’d normally give a cheesecake as the waiters slide gleaming plates in front of them. “Do you golf much?"

Malone launches into some story about being attacked by a goose at a golf course, and while BJ absentmindedly nods once in a while and laughs in all the right places, his eyes are on Hawk, and his hands are in his lap.

Hawkeye lives and dies for innuendo, lives behind a careful facade of a playboy, using dirty jokes as weapons, and he eats cheesecake with the exact same blissed-out expression he gets when he’s between Peggy’s legs, the same hollowed-out cheeks as when he has BJ in his mouth.

It’s indecent in its innocence.

“Excuse me, Doctors,” BJ says, managing to fumble his pants back into some semblance of order under the tablecloth before standing up. “I think I need to get some air.”

Hawk pauses in licking his fork to grab at BJ’s sleeve. “Beej, you okay?” he asks.

BJ nods, not trusting his voice. His legs are unsteady, his heart is pounding, and Hawk’s eyes are fixed on his face.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Hawk asks.

“Nope, just need some air.”

Hawk nods, and BJ strides off, trying not to move too fast. Once he’s out of the hot and crowded ballroom, he takes the first deep breath he’s taken all night, ducking into an alcove to avoid passers-by. The last few notes of perfume are still lingering in his nose, doing nothing to help the rather insistent erection he’s sporting.

Hawk walks past, and BJ grabs his sleeve, tugging him down the hallway and into the coat check off the foyer. It’s mercifully empty, the attendant no doubt stepping out while the event is in full swing.

BJ pulls him behind one of the racks of coats, and pushes him up against the wall, knowing how Hawk enjoys a little manhandling on occasion. “You fucker,” is all he can say before leaning down and kissing Hawkeye with all the passion and want he’s suppressed tonight in the name of remaining professional. Instead of relaxing into it, Hawk grabs the lapels of BJ’s suit and surges up, kissing him back even harder. 

When BJ pulls away, breathless, he can’t help but grin. “Did you put Peggy up to this or vice versa?”

“It was more of a team effort,” Hawk says faintly. “You know how Peggy and I love driving you crazy.” 

“And if I’d tried to do the same to you?”

Hawk smirks. “Wouldn’t work. I’m already crazy.”

BJ leans down and kisses him again instead of answering. “God I love you,” he says in between kisses. “You’re a devious fucker, but I love you.”

Hawk leans his head back against the wall. His eyes are wide and dark, his pupils blown with arousal, and he quickly unties BJ’s neat bow tie, before using it to tug BJ into another kiss, this one slower and less frenzied.

“Told you,” Hawk mumbles when he pulls away. “You’re irresistible in a bow tie.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” BJ fumbles with Hawk’s pants, and he can’t suppress a gasp at the sight once he’s gotten them down.

Hawkeye’s cheeks are almost as pink as the lace panties stretched across his cock, and it’s pretty in a deliciously obscene way.

“Oh God, Hawk,” BJ says faintly. The thought of Hawk wearing these all night just to tease BJ is just.. “Oh God.”

“She said you’d like the pink,” Hawk says, unbearably smug and cocky for a second, but it slowly melts into softness. “D’you like it, Beej?”

BJ grins. “You’re beautiful.”

“You really think so?” Hawk asks.

“Yeah.” He takes another look. “Lingerie, huh?”

“Well.” Hawk is definitely pink. “Peggy picked it out from her own collection, y’know. It’s how I know who I belong to.”

BJ feels a sudden desperate affection swell in his chest, both for his wife, and his husband. “Hawk,” he says, cupping Hawk’s face in his hands. “You know you don’t have to dress up for me, right?”

Hawk blinks, his brow furrowing. “Does that mean you don’t like it?”

“I love it,” BJ reassures him, brushing a thumb over Hawk’s lower lip. “But I love you in anything. Peggy too.” 

“I love you too,” Hawk says. “But not in anything.”

“Hey!” BJ protests.

“C’mon you’ve seen what you wear, really Beej-”

BJ rolls his eyes, leaning in and kissing Hawk to cut him off. When he pulls away, he says, “And here I thought you loved me unconditionally.”

“You, yes,” Hawk says with a cackle. “Your wardrobe not so much.”

BJ takes in the sight again, pink lace and pale skin, and  _ God _ , it’s too much. “So Peggy gave you your marching orders, huh Hawk?”

“Well, she gave me a few ideas,” Hawk says. “But I have my own ways of getting your attention.”

“I definitely noticed you groping me at dinner,” BJ says.

Hawk grins. “You didn’t seem to mind at the time. And remind me to remind Peggy that this bra… chafes.”

“Oh God,” BJ says again, laughing. “You’re a wonder, Hawk. You and Peggy will be the death of me.”

Hawk preens.

BJ leans in to bury his nose in Hawk’s neck, to inhale the perfume and a clean scent underneath that is all Hawk, and he presses kisses down Hawk’s neck, listening to him groan.

He nips at Hawk’s earlobe, and does it again when Hawk whimpers. “Pink suits you.”

“I’ll- oh fuck- I’ll keep that in mind.”

BJ licks at Hawk’s neck, laughing into his skin. “Good.”

“Maybe I’ll wear that pink shirt of yours sometime.”

BJ has to close his eyes for a second, still breathing in the perfume on Hawk’s skin, picturing Hawk in the pink Henley and nothing else, pictures flicking open the buttons to get his mouth on Hawk’s skin, and he groans, unable to help himself. “Dammit, Hawk.”

Hawk strokes BJ’s hair in a gesture that seems too soft and intimate for a hot and quick fumble, but Hawkeye is one hell of a contradiction. “My Beej,” he mumbles in a tone BJ is sure he’s not supposed to hear. 

“You’ll have to forgive me Hawk,” BJ says, pressing a few more open-mouthed kisses down the line of Hawk’s neck. “But I didn’t get any tips from Peggy. Mind if I improvise?”

“ _ Please _ .”

BJ presses one final kiss to Hawk’s mouth before dropping to his knees. It may be dangerous, but Hawk has gone to a lot of trouble to make tonight special (or at least entertaining), and they’re hidden here behind the racks of coats, even if all BJ can smell besides perfume is a musty smell that reminds him of Klinger’s old mink coat.

BJ leans in and licks Hawk’s cock through the lace, making Hawk whimper. The choked-back sound is encouraging, and BJ continues mouthing and kissing at Hawk’s cock through the fabric. He pushes Hawk’s pants down further to press kisses to Hawk’s thighs too.

Hawk is babbling above him. “Oh God, Beej, you have no idea what it was like tonight, just feeling the lace against my skin, knowing you’d- oh Christ, Beej- go crazy if you knew, just had me squirming in my- fuck- my seat all night, and d’you know how many times I wanted you to-  _ fuck _ .”

“Not here,” BJ says, pulling away. 

“God _ dammit  _ BJ!”

“Shhh, you want to get us caught?” BJ demands.

Hawk shakes his head, holding a hand over his mouth before giving BJ an exaggerated wink. 

BJ goes back to what he was doing, feeling Hawkeye under his mouth, wanting nothing more than to suck Hawk off. He kisses the tip of Hawk’s cock very gently, and pulls back when Hawk whines.

He could get Hawk off right here, and then go back to dinner like nothing happened, the taste of Hawk still in his mouth, or he could leave Hawk hard and achingly desperate, driven crazy by the time the night is over.

He pulls away and stands up.

“ _ Beej _ ,” Hawk protests. 

BJ strokes a finger down Hawk’s cheek. “Any other surprises in store for me tonight?”

Hawk shakes his head, desperate. “Beej, please.”

BJ presses a light kiss to Hawk’s forehead, and gives him a look. “Hawk, you okay?”

“Okay?  _ Okay _ ? Jesus Christ, Beej!”

BJ claps his own hand over Hawk’s mouth in a vain attempt to quiet him, and then pulls it back when Hawk licks it. “ _ Hawk _ .”

Hawk rolls his eyes.

“Hawk,” BJ says softly. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Hawk laughs, but it fades when he sees BJ is serious. “Beej? What do  _ you  _ want to do?”

“Well, what I want is to take you home and peel you out of this ridiculous monkey suit. And then I want to take you into our bedroom and lick you all over.” 

Hawk chokes back a whimper, watching BJ with wide eyes.

“On second thought,” BJ says, faux thoughtful. “Maybe we’ll spank you first. How does that sound?”

Hawk can’t suppress his whimper this time, leaning his head against BJ’s chest. 

“Dammit Beej,” he says, voice muffled in BJ’s shirt.

“You gonna hide in my shirt for the rest of the night?”

Hawk lifts his head. “Beej, why are you asking me what I want?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” BJ asks, confused. “This is how it works, isn’t it?

“Is it?” Hawk asks, and the words leave a sour feeling in BJ’s stomach. 

“Hawk,” he says again. “C’mon.”

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, Hawk, I am serious about making sure what we’re doing is what you want to be doing.”

“I’m uh…” Hawk grins. “Kinda used to not being in charge. Hazard of living with Peggy too long.”

BJ smiles. “Please, Hawk.”

“Well…” Hawk pauses, clearly thinking it over, and then he gives BJ a shy, embarrassed look. “I… er…” 

“Benjamin Franklin Pierce.” BJ punctuates this by pressing his lips to the scar above Hawk’s mouth, and when he pulls away, Hawk is definitely pink. “There’s nothing you can’t tell me.”

“You have to get me off here,” Hawk blurts out.

“Wait,  _ have to _ ?” BJ asks. “Why?”

“I mean… Erin’s at home, isn’t she?”

BJ tries to hold it back, but eventually he cracks. He starts laughing, “Hawk you’re the living end, you know that?”

“For christ’s sake, why are you laughing?” Hawk asks, thumping BJ on the chest as he laughs. “I’m trying not to scar our daughter for life here! At least give me some credit for being a good parent!”

BJ has to wipe at his eyes as his manic laughter subsides into the occasional chuckle. “Hawk, you lunatic,” he says fondly. “Peggy’s playing both sides.”

Hawk scoffs. “Well  _ that  _ we knew.”

“No, I mean… she really didn’t tell you?”

“Didn’t tell me  _ what _ ?”

“Erin is staying with Peg’s mom tonight,” BJ says, unable to wipe the smile from his face. “So whatever you want, we can do it.”

“In that case, I want you to leave me like this. Hard, aching, wanting you so badly I could  _ die _ ,” Hawk says, looking up at BJ. “And waiting until I’m dying of desperation before you touch me again.”

“Well.” BJ’s a little out of breath at the thought of Hawk spread out naked on their bed, achingly hard, squirming and desperate to be touched. “I think that can be arranged. Shall we head home, Dr. Pierce?”

Hawk gets his clothes back into some semblance of order, BJ trying to help with shaky hands. He reaches up to press a final kiss to BJ’s lips. “Shall we?”

BJ holds out an arm. “We shall.”

Hawk tilts his head, a brow raised in confusion, and then he reaches forward to retie BJ’s bow tie, the same casual invasion of BJ’s space that’s been going on since day one, since Hawk plucked captain’s bars from BJ’s shoulders. It reminds BJ of Hawk tying his mask, and it leaves a lump in his throat. 

Hawk takes BJ’s arm, and grins. “We need to stop by the kitchens first.”

“Why?” BJ asks, and then it clicks. “Cheesecake?”

“Won’t Peggy be surprised?” Hawk asks, bubbling over with manic glee.

“She’ll be thrilled,” BJ tells him, oddly touched that Hawk remembers their wife’s favourite dessert. He slings an arm around Hawk’s shoulder as they walk out from behind the coat rack, pressing a tender kiss to Hawk’s temple. “You’re a good husband, Hawk.”

Hawk’s smile turns shy. “You’re not half-bad yourself, Beej. Let’s go home.”


End file.
